


The Firsts

by Kyss_31



Series: I Should Have Known [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Case Fic, Crime Scenes, Fear, Insecurity, M/M, Moreid, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Recovery, Requited Unrequited Love, Solving the case, Twelve step program, beginning of relationship, start of romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-04-29 01:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5111648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyss_31/pseuds/Kyss_31
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The special spark between Derek and Spencer can't be denied forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How did we get here?

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of jumping into the story - might have to do a prequel chapter at a later point, but this is where the story started in my head and I just had to go with it.

“You’re obviously not attracted to me, so there didn’t seem to be any point in bringing it up,” Spencer said as if it were common sense. He steepled his fingers and looked over the case file sprawled across his desk one more time before gathering up the pages and placing the file on his stack of completes. It took him a moment to realize that Derek hadn’t responded. He looked up to see the older man looking down at him with confusion wrinkling his dark face. Spencer blinked and cocked his head to the side, relaying the last bit of their conversation in his mind to see where he’d lost Derek. Luckily, Derek began filling in the gaps.

The older agent crossed his arms over his muscled chest and leaned back, settling into the corner of Spencer’s desk. “What makes you so sure I’m not attracted to you?” he said with nothing more than curiosity detectable in his voice.

“Well,” said Spencer with a slight laugh, “we’ve been working together for years. I’ve seen you flirting with half the women in the station, as well as some of the men. I’ve seen you pick up people at bars after hours, noticed you checking out others that you found attractive. But in all this time, you’ve never made a pass at me.” He held Derek’s gaze the entire time he talked, comfortable in his conclusion.

Now it was Derek’s turn to cock his head to the side in confusion as he gazed down at the pale man seated before him. _Have I really been that good at hiding it from him?_ he wondered, feeling a touch of shame when he noticed the hint of sadness behind Spencer’s confident expression. Keeping his attraction to Spencer a secret had seemed like such a good idea when Derek first noticed it, but now that he knew there was a chance Spencer reciprocated his feelings…?

Spencer was dismayed by his co-workers extended silence. “Look,” he rushed on, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat, “it’s not like I was expecting you to - I mean - it’s just that -” He floundered for the right words, looking around the near empty bull-pen for assistance and finding nothing. He sighed and tried again. “I would never have expected someone like you to be attracted to me,” he said slowly, keeping his eyes down, “so it wasn’t a big deal. I mean, it’s not a big deal. Honest.” He chanced a glance up at Derek and was only further confused by the strained look crossing his face.

Derek shifted on the edge of Spencer’s desk, inching closer to the younger man.

“No, no,” he whispered, more to himself than Spencer, “you’ve got it all wrong, pretty boy.”

“No time for chit chat, my beauties!” came Garcia’s sing-song voice as she bustled past Spencer’s desk, heading towards the conference room. “We’ve got a live one!” Her steps faltered and she turned back. “I mean, a dead one - a couple of dead ones, actually.” She waved her hands to brush away the confusion in the air. “You know what I mean. Hop to it!”

The team began converging on the conference room from their various positions throughout the bull-pen. Spencer stood up from his desk to follow, but Derek put a gentle hand against his shoulder. When Spencer dared to meet his eyes, the older man said, “There’s something I should have told you - probably a long time ago.”

Spencer was surprised to see so much sadness in those dark-roast coffee colored eyes. He quickly shook himself out of the stupor his mind was attempting to fall into, forcing himself to focus on the case at hand.

“Well,” he said, more breathlessly than he realized, “if you’ve waited so long to tell me, I suppose it can wait until after this case.”


	2. The Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Spencer have to visit the crime scenes, but the tension that started from that morning's conversation just won't let up.

Derek had a difficult time concentrating on the case displayed on his tablet as the team went over their initial observations on the plane. His eyes kept drifting from the screen to the young brunnet three seats down. How could it be that Spencer hadn't noticed Derek's crush - all this time?

Hotch broke into Derek's musings as they neared their destination. “Reid and Morgan will go to the latest crime scene - the local authorities should still be there when we land. Prentis and I will take the Barwicks. Rossi, you go to the Hendersons and JJ will get us set up at the local field office. Everyone coordinate with Garcia as needed.”

Everyone nodded with the plan - it was typical enough. Spencer squirmed in his seat, but didn't argue. He wasn't looking forward to having to spend time with Derek away from the rest of the team. He’d felt the eyes of their tactical leader on him the entire flight. Spencer knew Derek wasn’t going to wait until after the case to finish the discussion that had started in the bull-pen. Spencer shifted again and wished he’d just kept his mouth shut. After all, he’d avoided mentioning his crush on Derek for over 5 years.

He paused and let his brain track the numbers filtering through his thoughts...5 years, 3 months, 12 days and - he glanced at his watch - 11 hours, 42 minutes since he’d noticed his attraction to the dark skinned, well muscled man. Of course that had also been the moment when they’d met. But, he’d always been so sure that Derek wouldn’t return his feelings that it hadn't occurred to him to bring it up to the older profiler.

So why did I mention it this morning?

He hadn’t figured out the answer to that question by the time he and Derek were at the crime scene and had been introduced to the local team they would be working with on this case.  Spencer began looking over the details of the murder scene, his long, thin fingers ticking off check marks in the air with each observation.

Derek was still watching his co-worker more than he was watching for details at the scene.  He tried to shake himself out of it, but once the local detective and his team had moved back to their squad cars, leaving him and Spencer alone, his ability to distract himself with work dwindled even further.  Spencer seemed to be ignoring their earlier conversation, as he rattled off the probability of the unsub coming across the victim by chance in the remote location versus the probability that this was a planned secondary location.

Derek looked at the set of tire tracks in the silt built up after a recent rain.  The treads had been marked off by the cops as having likely come from the unsub’s vehicle.  Derek sighed and forced his brain to actually process the image instead of just seeing it.

“These treads are pretty wide - 250 at least.  The unsub was driving a larger truck or SUV - maybe a commercial-style van.”

“Good for transporting victims unnoticed.  But it would make him stand out to anyone who just happened along.”

“Yeah, no one wants to venture too close to a van parked on a dim street in the middle of the night.”

“So this is a secondary location,” Spencer finished their duel train of thought while staring off down the street in the direction the treads led to and from.  “But why’d he pick this location to kill the victim, and then just leave him here?”

Derek followed Spencer’s gaze up the street to the string of foreclosed shop-fronts.  There was a noticeable lack of drug paraphernalia on this side street, so it was unlikely the area had much traffic at night.

“This would be a quiet spot,” he said, gauging the distance to the closest inhabited building.  “But a gunshot would still be noticeable and unexpected in this neighborhood.”

“Unless he used a silencer,” Spencer speculated.  He made a mental note to check with the medical examiner about the velocity of the bullet as a silencer would have slowed it down, even at the short distance.

“I pick out a deserted alley where no one will see me.  I use a vehicle that won’t draw attention driving down the road, but is big enough that I can use it to blitz-attack my victim at the abduction sight.”  Derek ticked off the unsub’s thought process as he continued the role-play.  “I use a silencer so I don’t attract attention when I fire.  I shoot the victim in the head, while they’re standing, because...I want them to see it coming - I want them to see my face when I kill them.  Why do I just leave the body in the alley?  Why take the time to bring him to this location if I’m gonna leave him to be found by the first person to wander by?”

“Maybe he ran out of time?”  Spencer didn’t sound convinced by his own suggestion.  “Maybe the unsub heard someone coming.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t care what happens to the victim once he’s done with them,” Derek said with a little more conviction than his co-worker.

They took one last look around the scene and decided they’d gleaned as much as they could from the location.  They turned as one and headed back to their SUV.

Now that the immediate work was done, neither of them were able to stop their minds from returning to their earlier conversation.  Derek called Garcia to let her know they were heading towards the first crime scene to check for similarities, then he and Spencer got in the vehicle.  As the doors closed and they found themselves in the silence of the large cab, Derek let out a long sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back.

“Okay, kid,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.  “Why were you so sure I couldn’t be attracted to you?”

Spencer wasn’t surprised that Derek wanted to return to their original conversation, but he was surprised that that’s where he wanted to pick back up.  He glanced at the older agent, who was reluctantly starting up the engine.  “I’m not the kind of person I’ve seen you go out with, so it stands to reason that I’m just not your ‘type’.”  He added air quotes to the last word.

“So, genius, what’s my type?”

“All the people I’ve seen you with at the bars are usually -” he ticked off his fingers “- overtly attractive, outgoing, flirtatious, funny-”

“And you don’t think you’re any of those things?” Derek cut in, giving the younger man a sideways frown.

“I know I’m not,” Spencer said with a shrug.  He had tried to keep his voice even and unemotional, but winced when he realized there was a touch of regret that Derek was sure to notice, and Derek did.

The older agent thought back to the times the team had gone out to bars or clubs to blow off steam after cases.  Derek usually ended up dancing with someone, and that someone had often times insinuated a desire to go home with him - an offer he would actually take far less often than he refused.  Dancing with strangers was fun.  Sleeping with strangers was complicated.

“Those people at the bars - they came onto me - I didn’t seek them out.”

“You didn’t turn them away, either.”  Spencer found himself wincing at the tone of his voice again, which was this time laced with bitterness.

“Sometimes I did.”

“And sometimes you didn’t.  You liked them.”

“I liked that they noticed me, I guess.”

“Everyone notices you!”  Spencer’s voice was rising, both in volume and in pitch.  He tried to breathe through the emotions that were rising as well, but found that they weren’t so easy to shove back down - now that he was actually talking to Derek about it all.  “Who wouldn’t notice you?” he went on, slowly forcing control back into his tone.  “You’re handsome, kind, funny - you have a smile that attracts people to you like it’s an electromagnetic force.  You’re fit, which makes people unconsciously consider you a good breeding mate -”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”  Derek interrupted him again, taking one hand off the steering wheel to put between himself and Spencer.  “I don’t go to bars looking for a breeding mate.”

“No, you go looking for uncomplicated sex.  That’s what you want - that’s your ‘type’.”  Spencer cringed as bitterness returned to his voice.  But he'd been unable to hold it back.

Derek gripped the wheel again, hard enough to pale the skin along the knuckles of both hands.  “Is that all you think of me?” he asked through gritted teeth.  “I’m some player who hooks up with anything that flirts with me in a bar - that I don’t want something more than that?”

Spencer kept his eyes trained on the scenery outside his window and said softly, “I never said that.”

“But you implied it, pretty boy!”

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, as the SUV weaved through the backstreets of the small city, inching closer to the first crime scene.  The silence between them blanketed the interior of the SUV, leaving them both overheated and feeling stifled.

Derek was the one to break the tension.

“You leave before I do,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What?”  Spencer finally tore his eyes away from the window.

“You leave before I do!” Derek repeated, pitching his voice much louder than the first time he said it.  “At the bars - and the work parties, and Penelope’s birthday last month.  You always leave before I do.”

“So?”

“So you don’t know how often I actually go home with those people you see me flirting with.  Now do you?”  The last sentence was more an accusation than a question.  Spencer recognized the tone from interrogation rooms.

“I guess -” he started, trying to think of how many times he had actually witnessed Derek leaving with someone.

“Yeah, you guess,” Derek cut in.  “You don’t know.  For such a genius, you can be real thick sometimes, pretty boy.”

“Why are you so mad at me?”  Spencer shifted in his seat so his back was partially pressed to his door.  He had his hands between them in a useless defensive posture.

“You just assumed that I was going home with them.  Didn’t you?  You assumed that I liked those people - that I preferred those kind of ‘outgoing, flirtatious’ types.”  He threw Spencer’s words back at him with venom dripping from every syllable.

“Okay!  Yeah, I did!”  Spencer squirmed further away, but he wasn’t going to be able to get more space between himself and the angry, larger man until the vehicle stopped.  “But why are you so mad about it?”

Before answering, Derek spun the SUV into a parking spot and cut the engine.  Spencer seized the opportunity to unbuckle his seatbelt and nearly fell backwards in his haste to get outside once more.  Derek quickly hopped out too, slamming his door shut behind him.  He stalked around the hood to stand in front of Spencer, who was looking around for potential hiding places.  Unfortunately for him, they were in the middle of an empty parking lot behind an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town.  He had nowhere to run.

Derek raised a shaking hand and pointed it at Spencer’s chest, but he didn’t say anything.  Not yet.  He knew his voice would betray him.  He knew his anger would send the wrong message.  He didn’t want Spencer to see him like this.  He didn’t want Spencer to know how badly it hurt him to find out Spencer thought he was nothing more than a hound-dog.  He had made mistakes in the past, sure.  He was a flirt, true.  But he had never wanted to be the man who played the field and never took home the trophy.  All he wanted, actually, was that prize - someone to come home to, to share his life with, to create a family with.  Someone he could take home to meet his Mama and sisters.  Someone who would understand the long hours and frayed emotions that come with each case.  Someone who was smart, and sweet, and silly, and whom he could love endlessly.  Someone like…

“Now, you listen to me, pretty boy,” he said once he trusted his voice not to break.  Spencer caught the change in tone and body language and relaxed every so slightly, though he kept his long fingers wrapped around the strap of his leather satchel, holding the bag in front of him as if it could shield him from Derek’s anger.  “I -” Derek took a deep breath and enunciated each word “- am - a - flirt.  I am _not_ a player.  I don’t go home with even half those people you’ve seen me with at the bars.  I’m not looking for one-night-stands - I _hate_ one-night-stands.  I flirt, I tease - but I don’t hook up and leave.  You understand me?”

Spencer let Derek’s words sink in before he replied.  He supposed that could fit within his observations.  It was true that he hadn’t witnessed Derek being the instigator of most of his social flirtations.  And it was true that Derek often flirted with colleagues whom Spencer knew Derek had no interest in seeing.  Derek had mentioned being involved with someone now and again that seemed to last for more than a few months at a time.  Spencer supposed it was possible that he had taken too many of Derek’s off-hand comments as serious remarks and come to the wrong conclusion about his sexual exploits.

“Ookaaay,” Spencer said slowly, nodding as his mind stored this information under factual evidence in his limitless vault.  “Then I apologize for being incorrect.”  He finally dared to look Derek in the eyes at this point.  Those dark-roast coffee colored eyes, which he often had a hard time looking away from, were filled with a sadness Spencer hadn’t been expecting.  “I’m sorry, Morgan.”  He added, feeling that his error in judgement was probably worse than just a misunderstanding.  Watching the emotions playing across Derek’s silent face, Spencer became aware that he had actually insulted his friend, and he wasn’t sure why.

Spencer didn’t take a moral stand on other people’s sexual habits.  So long as it was between consenting adults, it didn’t matter to him.  True, he had been saddened when he thought Derek preferred the casual hook-up to a committed relationship, but only because he knew for himself that he would never want something casual, and his fondness for Derek had always kept him wondering what a romantic relationship between the two of them could be like.  Spencer needed someone he could trust to stick around.  He was only now able to accept that Derek might be able to give that to him after all.

As this realization came over the gangly, young man, all the air and heat vanished from his body, and Spencer found himself straining for breath as he hugged his thin arms around his frail frame.

“Oh, god,” he whispered, his wide eyes locked onto Derek’s face.  “Oh, god, I’m so sorry.  Derek.  I’m so sorry.”

Any residual anger melted off Derek when he saw the younger man begin to tremble.

“Hey,” he cooed, closing the distance between them.  “Easy there, kid.  It’s okay.”  He placed his hands on Spencer’s shoulders and felt just how cold he was, even under the unnecessarily plane cardigan.  Derek wrapped his hands around Spencer’s back and pulled him into his chest.  “It’s okay, Spence,” he whispered into Spencer’s hair as the frail agent continued to whimper his apology into Derek’s shoulder.  “It’s okay.  I know, kid.  I know.”

Derek was rightly thinking that Spencer would avoid any casual romantic entanglements.  The genius had had too much instability in his young life to make him comfortable letting his guard down around strangers.  It had taken years of working together before Spencer had even been able to open up to his colleagues.  Derek had realized that, so long as Spencer thought Derek was a one-night-only kind of guy, they didn’t stand a chance.  It had been part of the reason he had been so angry hearing those words from his pretty boy.

But now Spencer knew what Derek was really looking for.  Now they had a chance to talk about this energy between them.  Derek tightened his hold on Spencer’s shoulders and continued to soothe the still shaking man.  We’ve got a shot, he thought, resting his head against Spencer’s short curls.  At least now, we have a shot.


	3. The Stall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Spencer really need to talk about their feelings - but with a case right in front of them, it's hard to find the time.

Spencer rested his head against Derek’s shoulder and tried to stifle the shivers that were still wracking his thin body.   _How could I have been so wrong? How could I not see who he really is?_ The answer came as quickly as the question crossed his mind. _I didn’t want to see it. I wanted to believe it couldn't work so I wouldn't have to try._

 

He sighed and shook the last of the shivers from his shoulders. His arms, which had been hanging useless at his side, came up to wrap around Derek's waist, drawing the muscular man closer. Derek complied with Spencer's pulling on him and inched closer.

 

“It’s okay, pretty boy,” he whispered, running his hand through the soft curls at the nape of Spencer’s neck.

 

“No, it’s not.” Spencer straightened up without pulling back. He looked Derek in the eyes. “I let myself believe that you were something that you're not, just because I was scared of - I’m not sure what - liking you?”

 

Derek sighed and leaned back a little, bringing his hands back to Spencer's thin shoulders and giving the wiry muscles a squeeze. “I didn't exactly help with that.” He sighed again and glanced up to the afternoon sun. “Spence...I should have just said something.”

 

“I'm not sure what you could have said - other than what you just did, that is. I made a conclusion based on what I thought I saw -”

 

“No. I mean before. I should have just said something at the beginning - when I first realized that I liked you. I thought I was doing what was best - for both of us - for our careers.” He shook his head and rested his calloused hands on the sides of Spencer’s pale neck. “I should have told you, though - instead of making the decision for the both of us.”

 

Spencer took a half step back while keeping his hands at the bottom of Derek's ribcage. He ran his eyes over Derek's face, examining his micro-expressions, and down his chest to monitor his breathing. The level of regret he gauged in Derek's body language was higher than he had anticipated.

 

“How long?” he asked softly.

 

Derek tweaked the corner of his lip up in a soft smirk. “Oh, I thought you were hot stuff the moment we met.”

 

“What?” Spencer was incredulous. “I was barely 23. I still wore glasses back then.”

 

“And you were an adorable little stick of a nerd who wore pants that were too short and couldn’t have had more than five shirts in your closet.” Derek took a quick glance at the brown button-up and cardigan combo Spencer was wearing. “Some things never change, Pretty Boy.” He added inflection and a knowing smile to his favorite nickname for Spencer, turning it into something more.

 

Spencer still couldn't see how what Derek was saying could be possible. Derek couldn't have been attracted to him the entire time they’d worked together. If he was, why hadn’t he ever tried something? Spencer voiced the question, managing to sound only half as disappointed as he felt.

 

Derek felt shame when he heard Spencer's tone. His decision to keep a romantic distance from the younger agent had seemed like such a good idea at the time. But over the years, it had become harder to stay away. Still, he had stuck to his original plan, thinking that the reasoning behind it was still valid. One look at Spencer's puppy-dog brown eyes and pouting lip showed him how wrong he had been.

 

“Oh, Spence,” he breathed out, pulling the thin man back against his chest. “I’m so sorry.” He pressed his cheek against Spencer’s and breathed in the younger man’s scent - leather and amber and old paper.

 

Spencer folded his arms around Derek's back once more and nestled his head into the crook of his neck. They stood like that for a moment as Derek gathered his words, trying to remember what he had convinced himself of all those years ago. He took in a deep breath, sucking in as much of Spencer's scent as he could get to help stabilize his nerves before he answered.

 

“Spence, I -”

 

Spencer's phone began to ring and the younger man jumped at the sudden interruption. He scrambled one hand into his pocket, refusing to remove his other hand from Derek's back, as doing so would end the moment.

 

He flipped over the phone and saw Rossi’s name on the screen. Spencer sighed and pressed the speaker button.  “Reid.”

 

“It’s Rossi. How close are you to the first crime scene?”

 

“Hey Rossi,” said Derek, “we just pulled in. What’d you find out from the victim’s wife?”

 

Spencer could feel as Derek shifted back into work mode. His back became rigid and his legs locked in a wider stance - one used in martial arts. Derek's hands came down from Spencer's shoulders. He kept one hand loosely resting on the arm Spencer still had around his waist, but the other was held at the ready over his gun.

 

Rossi's voice coming from Spencer’s phone further dispelled any chance the two men had of returning to their private conversation.  “Mrs. Henderson said that Daniel always wore this steel bracelet. It wasn’t in his personal effects from the medical examiner's office and it’s not listed in the police evidence log.”

 

“You think the unsub might have taken it?” Derek mused.

 

Spencer posited the other most likely option: “Or it was knocked off and hasn’t been found yet.”

 

“If it’s not where you are, it might be at the abduction sight,” Rossi suggested.

 

“Or it might be with the unsub,” Derek said, sticking with his original theory.

 

“Either as a trophy, or maybe lost in his vehicle,” said Spencer, not willing to settle on a theory just yet.

 

“We’ll look around here,” Derek said to the phone.  “If we don’t find it, there’s a good chance it’ll help us nail the unsub when we do.”

 

“Hey, Rossi - check with Hotch to see if Edgar Barwick had any distinguishing personal items on him, and we’ll confirm with the medical examiner whether or not they’re still there.”

 

“Will do.  See you guys at the station.”

 

Spencer’s phone clicked, and the screen went dark.  As Spencer placed the phone back in his pocket, he scanned the empty parking lot Derek had driven them to.

 

“Um, Derek?” he said.  “Where are we?”

 

“First crime scene, like I said.”

 

The pair found their arms slowly returning to their own sides as they prepared to get back to work.  Derek pointed to the other side of the SUV.  Spencer took a few steps in the direction he had indicated and felt a chill along his skin that was no longer in contact with his co-worker.  The SUV was sitting parallel to a string of yellow crime scene tape, strung up 20 feet from the driver’s side.  A section of the parking lot, no more than 200 square feet, was taped off.  Otherwise, there was no indication that this part of the parking lot was any different than any other section.  The lot, which must have been able to hold over 500 vehicles, was nothing but flat, cracked concrete slowly being reclaimed by grass and dandelions.

 

“Why here?” said Spencer, coming all the way around the vehicle.

 

“Not a lot of night traffic,” Derek said as he followed, “like the other spot.  No drug pushers, and the police didn’t find any indication that this building is being used much by vagrants.”

 

“So it’s farther away from potential witnesses than the second.”

 

“Maybe he didn’t get enough of a thrill from killing here, so he moved closer to town.”

 

“Middle of a parking lot, though - he was actually more exposed than in the alley.”  Spencer craned his thin neck around in all directions, checking line of sight.  Then he looked straight up.  “But he chose to work under a broken lamp,” he noted.

 

Derek jogged over to the next closest light in the parking lot.  “This one’s out, too,” he called out as he came back, “so it would have been dark all over.  Why pick this spot?”

 

“I don’t know...yet.”

 

Derek and Spencer spent much more time at the first crime scene, looking for any indication as to what had drawn the unsub to that spot, as well as looking for the first victim’s bracelet.  After nearly 2 hours of finding nothing, they took the darkening sky as their cue to head for their team’s temporary headquarters at the local police station.

 

The drive back into town was filled with conversation about the case, and not their personal lives.  Now that the immediate tension had been cleared up, they both understood that it was time to work.  They had held off discussing their feelings for each other for years - they could wait a few more days.  After all, there were lives on the line.

 

 


	4. Time Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team catches up on the evidence.

“We’re set up in here,” JJ called to Derek and Spencer when she saw them get off the elevator.  The two men joined her and the team in the conference room that had been set aside for their case and began filling them in on what they’d observed at the two crime scenes.

 

“With only two days separating these two kills, it seems strange that the unsub would choose such drastically different kill sites,” said Spencer, pointing to the two spots on the map, which were over 3 miles apart.

 

“And Garcia hasn’t found anything linking our two victims, yet,” said Hotch, standing beside Spencer with his arms crossed and his court-room face in place.

 

“Both white males,” said Emily with a flip of her hand and shake of her head.  “That’s about it.  One married with kids and in his forties, the other single and late twenties.  One easily middle-class, the other blue-collar.  Both abducted off the street during the day, but in different neighborhoods and with no witnesses.  Could these be victims of opportunity?”  She didn’t sound convinced, but left the question hanging for the group.

 

“Both last seen at their jobs,” said Rossi, leaning back in his chair so he could take in not only the evidence board but his teammates reactions as well.  “Barwicks made a stop at the market before heading home, and Henderson was supposed to pick up his daughter from softball practice but never showed.”

 

“And the paths the two men were taking didn’t intersect, so it doesn’t look like the unsub has a preferred hunting ground - if they are just victims of opportunity,” said JJ, nodding her head at Emily to acknowledge that her idea was still viable.

 

“There has to be a connection between the victims that we’re not seeing,” said Derek.  He had forced himself to take a seat when they entered the room, but found himself fidgeting as he watched Spencer’s fingers dance over the evidence board.  He wanted to be closer to the lithe genius.  He wanted to see how that marvelous mind sorted through all those facts and found patterns the rest of them missed.  “Maybe there’s a connection between the victims and their murder sites.  We should have Garcia check into the history of that factory on Ulston and the shops on Benton.  Maybe the unsub was taking the victims somewhere significant to them.”

 

“All those business were shut down,” said JJ, pointing the end of her pen at the photos of the crime scenes.  “Maybe there’s a connection between the businesses that went under and the unsub.”  She got a little more animated.

 

“Or maybe he’s using locations with abandoned buildings as a juxtaposition on the frailty of life,” said Spencer absentmindedly.  His eyes had not left the evidence board.

 

Derek couldn’t hold back his smirk.  “Okay, genius,” he said, “the unsub is trying to tell us that nothing lasts forever?”

 

“Nothing  _ does _ last forever,” said Spencer, finally turning around and letting his eyes lock with Derek’s.  The two stared for a moment before both quickly looking away.  The last thing they needed while they were trying to figure out what was going on between them was the team wondering what was going on between them.  Of course, the awkwardness was just as much of a tell as the long stare.  Luckily, the team had more important things to focus on than the potential relationship between two of its own.

 

“We need to find the connection between the victims,” said Hotch, scowling at the board.  “Or the connection between the kill sites.  There has to be a pattern in there, somewhere.  We’re just not seeing it yet.”

 

He turned his dark eyes on the team.  “You know what to do,” he said, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.

 

Emily and JJ shrugged at each other and got up to follow after.  Derek tapped a pencil against the desk and slowly stood up to get a closer look at the board - or to stand closer to Spencer, who hadn’t moved yet.  Rossi hadn’t moved from his relaxed position on the other end of the room, his eyes were focused on nothing in particular as his mind replayed all the information they’d gleaned at that point.

 

Derek glanced back at Rossi before angling himself closer to Spencer, using their bodies to shield his voice as he said, “Do you want another pair of eyes as you go over all this?”

 

Spencer wondered why Derek would be shy about offering help.  He noted the searching look in the older agent’s eyes and decided Derek had been hoping to get a chance to continue their earlier conversation under the guise of doing work.  Spencer gave him half a smile.  He wanted to speak with Derek, but this just wasn’t the time.  If they didn’t catch the unsub soon, another person would be killed, potentially within the next 32 hours.

 

“I’ve got this,” said Spencer, reluctantly.  “You should brief the locals.”

 

Derek nodded his understanding.  There would be time for talking later.  Derek headed into the bull-pen to find the detectives who had called them in on the case and Spencer turned back to the evidence board.

 

“Interesting,” Rossi muttered.  Though his voice was soft, Spencer still jumped.

 

“What?” he squeaked, turning to the senior member of the team.

 

Rossi’s eyes were still focused on some distant thought.  “It’s interesting, is all...the potential tie between the victims and the locations of their assassinations.”

 

“Oh,” Spencer breathed out, his heartbeat returning to normal.  “Yeah, as theories go, it’s… interesting.”

 

Rossi got to his feet.  “I think I’ll check out the victims’ work,” he muttered as he headed for the bull-pen.  He paused when he saw Derek surrounded by a handful of cops, giving them instructions.  Rossi glanced back at Spencer and let his eyes jump between the two men for a moment before heading for the door.   _ About time _ , he thought.


	5. Shot Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU catch up with the unsub, but things don't go well for Spencer and Derek.

The body that showed up in the morning created a tripod of data points for the team to work from, and, after a brief nap on a couch in the officer’s break room, Spencer’s mind pieced together a pattern the rest of them had missed.  It turned out that the abduction sites had each been about a block from a major access point to the city’s sewer system.  The Watershed Management Company was undergoing a major renovation on the sewer lines due to damage caused by a recent demolition of some of the abandoned buildings in the city.  A team of analysts and construction foreman had been surveying each of the access points throughout the city, deciding which ones needed to be worked on, and it turned out that during each abduction the team had been working at the closest access point.

 

Garcia found the names of each of the people who were part of the survey team, and the profilers determined that Quality Manager Edward Cartwright was narcissistic enough to take the damage to the lines as a personal affront.  Garcia tracked Cartwright’s phone’s GPS, and the team were off and running just before nightfall.

 

The potential fourth victim had already been abducted and Cartwright had taken him to a discontinued shipping depot to the north of town.  By then, the team knew that each murder site was on a list for consideration of demolition, and the depot was on that list as well.

 

Of course, it was a rather large building, and even with SWAT and the local police force with them, the team had to split up to cover the area.  Spencer and his team found Cartwright first, and, Spencer being Spencer, he tried to talk the unsub down.

 

Derek led his team in the direction of Spencer’s voice, keeping them quiet but approaching fast.  They had almost cleared the last obstacle to their line of sight when he heard the  _ phthoot  _ of a gun silencer.  Derek rounded the last corner as a tactical officer put two rounds in Cartwright’s head, but Spencer was already on the ground.

 

“REID!!!” Derek cried, ignoring the downed unsub and the sobbing abductee beside him, and raced to his partner’s side.

 

Spencer was trying to sit up, but clutching at his shoulder.  The bullet had barely hit the protective vest, landing just centimeters to the left of the genius’s shoulder.  It wouldn’t have been a fatal shot, but it could have shattered bone or damaged nerves enough to make the arm all but useless.

 

Derek stared at Spencer’s unmarred arm, letting the possibilities fill his thoughts for several seconds.

 

“MORGAN!” Spencer called for the fourth time.

 

“What?” said Derek, shaking himself out of his own head.

 

“Help me up,” said Spencer, extending the arm that hadn’t been nearly shot off.

 

“Right.”  Derek easily hauled the lithe man back to his feet.  

 

The rest of the team came running towards them from all directions, followed by tactical personnel and armed officers.  Cartwright was very dead, and the abductee had a minor contusion to the side of his head, but seemed more shaken than injured.  An ambulance arrived on site to check him out, along with Spencer.  Both were cleared rather quickly, and an officer took the abducted man to the station to meet up with his family.

 

Derek talked with each of the officers who had accompanied Spencer, especially the man who had taken Cartwright down.  It was a clean kill, and the officer was a veteran who took it in stride - didn’t enjoy it but wasn’t going to eat himself up over it.  Derek found himself running out of excuses to avoid Spencer.

 

After the team began piling back into the SUVs to head to the station, Derek walked over to Spencer, who was leaning against one of the remaining SUV’s writing up his notes on the shooting.

 

“Are you okay?” Derek couldn’t keep the residual panic out of his voice, though his tone was low enough not to raise the suspicion of the officers and profilers still hanging around.

 

“I’m fine,” said Spencer, trying to force a laugh as he slipped his notebook back into his satchel.  “Just my luck, I guess,” he added with a lopsided smile.

 

Derek sighed, feeling a familiar weight encasing his chest.  This was it - the reason he had decided not to ask Spencer to go out with him back when they first started working together.  The boy genius was a magnet for danger, and Derek just couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

 

Spencer could see that Derek was more sad than relieved, even though he was uninjured.  He reached a hand to the older agent, but Derek flinched away from the touch.

 

Spencer’s voice cracked as he whispered, “Derek?”  His eyes searched the face of the man he thought he had been getting closer with, but found none of the tenderness they’d been sharing the last few days.

 

Derek took a step back and sighed once more.  He shook his head and refused to look up.  He knew he’d lose his resolve if he looked into those light, caramel brown eyes, which he was sure were imploring him to open up again.

 

“I can’t, Pretty Boy,” he whispered, turning slightly away.

 

“Can’t?”  Spencer’s voice cracked again, and the sound of it made Derek cringe to his core.  “What do you mean?  Derek, please -”

 

“I can’t watch you get hurt,” Derek cut in, clenching his eyes and fists closed.  “I can’t sit around and wait for the call that you got shot, or stabbed, or kidnapped, or exposed to toxin.  I can’t lose you like that.”

 

Spencer tried to position himself into Derek’s line of sight, but the slightly shorter man had his head down and Spencer, limber as he was, couldn’t bend that far without moving closer, and Derek moved away any time he tried to take a step.

 

Spencer stood, arms hanging limply at his side, shoulders slumped, fingers fidgeting at the air.  He wracked his bottomless memory banks for something that might explain what he was seeing.

 

“Is this about Tobias Henckel?” he asked, the memory causing the faded track scars on his inner arms to itch, and he resisted the urge to scratch at them.

 

Derek’s eyes popped open and he finally looked up.  “No, Pretty Boy.  No, no, it’s not about him.”  He shook his head and his eyes begged Spencer to believe him.  He sighed again.  “Actually, it was Phillip Dowd.”

 

Spencer had to cast his memory a little further back.  “The L.D.S.K. in Illinois?  That was, what, our sixth case together?”

 

Derek nodded.  “He had you, Hotch, and a bunch of hostages locked down in that hospital.  We were trying to figure out how to get to you without getting everyone killed, but our options were pretty hopeless.”

 

“If you had busted down the doors, he would have shot both me and Hotch before you’d even got close.”

 

“Exactly.”  Derek ran a hand over his smooth head.  “The entire time S.W.A.T. was working out a tactical assault plan,  _ I _ was thinking…”  He paused and stared into Spencer’s quietly pleading eyes.  “I was thinking about you, Pretty Boy - the adorable little genius who just had his gun taken away and never knew when to shut his pretty mouth.  I was thinking that the next time I saw your pretty face, there was going to be a bullet hole through that incredible brain of yours.”

 

“But there wasn’t,” said Spencer, daring to take a step closer.  “I was the one who shot Dowd, remember.  Hotch got the hostages out of the line of fire and I grabbed his ankle piece while he had Dowd distracted.  We all got out of there without a scratch.”

 

“Yeah?”  Derek found himself mirroring Spencer’s step closer.  “I remember someone getting his pretty face patched up by the EMTs after.”

 

Spencer rolled his eyes.  “Dowd blitzed me, but it was just to stun me - he wasn’t trying to kill me.  I was  _ fine _ .”

 

“You almost got yourself killed, Pretty Boy, and I couldn’t take it.  After that case, I knew the only way that I could work with you is if I kept my attraction to you out of the picture.  We’re colleagues, nothing more.”  He had his hands up between them, indicating a need for distance, but continued to inch his feet closer.

 

Spencer seemed to curl in on himself.  His shoulder’s hunched around his chest and he lost more than an inch in height as he slouched his whole body.  “Oh,” was all he could say, not looking Derek in the eyes.

 

“Baby boy, I’m  _ sorry _ ,” said Derek, inching closer still.  “I should never have -”

 

“No, no, I get it,” Spencer cut in, unwilling to hear any more.  He didn’t want Derek’s rejection burned into his memory for the rest of his life.  As it was, it would take him years to add enough facts into his brain to reduce the words Derek had already said to a whisper.  Even then, he knew they would still hurt.  “I shouldn’t have brought it up to begin with.”  He started shuffling his feet in a direction away from Derek.  “It was stupid, really.  I don’t know why I bothered to say anything.  I knew you didn’t want to be with me.”

 

“Spence, no, that’s not -”

 

“It’s okay!” Spencer said over him, catching the attention of a few of their colleagues.  “It’s fine!  It - it is what is.  I know that.  I  _ knew _ that.  I - I’m sorry.”  He turned on his heel and, keeping his head low, half sprinted to the SUV JJ had just started up.  Spencer threw himself into the backseat beside Emily, and they were gone.

 

Derek stood off to the side of the ring of police cars, staring at the spot the SUV had occupied.   _ That did not go well _ , he told himself, shaking his head.


	6. Good Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rossi knows a lot about heartache, and he doesn't want to see the people he cares about make the same mistakes that he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to post - I got sidetracked by "reality" *shudder*. But now I'm back! I'll try to keep the chapters short so I can post more frequently.

“That didn’t go well.”

 

Derek’s head snapped around at the sudden voice behind him, and he found Rossi ambling towards him, a slightly saddened expression on the veteran agent’s face.

 

“I think you could have handled that a little better,” Rossi said slowly.

 

“What, you heard that?” said Derek, confused.  He was sure he and Spencer had kept their voices down.

 

“Didn’t need to hear the words when I could see it written all over your faces.”  He stopped a few feet away from Derek.  His hands were loosely placed in his pockets and he had removed his flak-jacket, revealing a well-starched white shirt.  He held up a hand when Derek opened his mouth to respond.  “Let me guess,” he cut off the younger agent.  “You two knuckleheads finally admitted that you’ve been pining for each other for years.  Then an unsub tries to kill Reid, and instead of just being  _ glad he’s still alive _ -” he paused and gave Derek a very pointed look “- you tell him it’ll never work - because of  _ the job _ .”  He frowned at Derek like a disappointed father.  “Am I close?”

 

Derek was frozen for several heartbeats.  He stared at the knowing look on the face of his mentor in wonder more than surprise.  Finally, he let out a huff of breath so big it left him completely deflated.  He sagged against the side of the SUV and hung his head, knowing his stance was confirmation enough for Rossi.

 

Rossi nodded.  “Thought so,” he muttered to himself.  He closed the distance and leaned against the vehicle, close to Derek without touching him.  They stood quietly for a moment, listening to the distant crackling of police radios.  The locals were still waiting for the coroner's office to come pick up the body of the murderer.

 

When Rossi began speaking again, there was a distant sadness in his voice.  “This  _ job  _ got blamed for my three divorces.  Hotch’s, too.  We’re never home.  And when we are, we’re jumpy and angry.  We drink too much.  We can’t ever plan vacations - or even outings for the day - because we’re going to get a call five minutes out the door that we need to go in for work.”  He paused again, letting his words hang in the quiet of the night.  “I had always thought it would be easier to be with someone on the job,” he said thoughtfully.  “At least they would  _ understand _ .”  He looked over at Derek, who wouldn’t meet his eyes.  “But I guess that comes with a different set of problems.  Doesn’t it.”  It wasn’t a question, but Derek nodded anyway.

 

“I can’t watch him get gunned down in the street,” Derek said meekly, still staring at his shoes.

 

“Like you watched your father die?” Rossi said as gently as he could.

 

Derek finally looked up, his eyes wide.

 

Rossi dared to take a step closer.

 

“I can only guess at how much it hurt you to lose your father that way.  And we all know that Reid isn’t exactly the safest in the field - he rushes in, thinking his store of knowledge can get him out of any situation, and usually ends up getting knocked on his ass.”

 

Derek let out a snort of a laugh that was far from amused.

 

“But let me ask you something, Morgan.”  Rossi placed a gentle hand on the muscled agent’s shoulder so that Derek would look at him.  “If Reid had been killed by Cartwright tonight, would it have hurt any less if you still  _ hadn’t _ known how he feels about you?”  Derek tensed under Rossi’s hand and the veteran pressed on quickly.  “You already knew how  _ you  _ felt about him.  You already knew that you wouldn’t be able to handle losing him.  It would have hurt just as bad, and you would have regretted never telling him how you felt.”  

 

Derek didn’t look entirely convinced, but Rossi wasn’t done.  “After a few weeks, maybe a few months, you would have convinced yourself that it didn’t matter that you’d never told him, because there hadn’t been any chance of him liking you back.  But you don’t even have  _ that  _ anymore.  And you never will again.”  He stretched the last sentence out, punctuating each word with a squeeze to Derek’s shoulder.  “So, tell me, Morgan: if it’s going to hurt to lose him, no matter what, what’s stopping you from making the most of the time that you have  _ right now _ ?”

 

Derek looked back down, his brow furrowed in concentration.  Rossi let his hand drop and took a step back.  He had done all he could for now.  It was up to Derek to decide what he was going to do next.

 

“You just think about that,” said Rossi softly and he slowly turned to find a ride back to the station.


	7. The Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's second-guessing rejecting Spencer, but Spencer has already made up his mind.

Derek was still mulling over Rossi’s advice three hours later when he sagged through the door into his hotel room.  There was still paperwork to be filled out at the police station, so the team wouldn’t be taking the plane back to Virginia until late morning, which meant that they had a chance to catch a few hours of sleep now that the adrenaline rush had worn off.

 

Spencer had managed to stay out of sight back at the police station, though Derek had known he’d been there to give his account of the shooting.  Both JJ and Emily had wondered at Spencer’s eerily dark mood they’d witnessed in the car-ride back to the station, but Derek offered no explanation beyond the fact that the young genius had been shot and was probably hurting.  He’d wanted to check on Spencer - he found himself standing up and turning towards the debriefing room multiple times - but didn’t know what he could say.  He knew what he  _ should _ say, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to do so.

 

Rossi’s words kept playing in his head, though, and he found it difficult to ignore the truth in the veteran’s advice.  He turned his shower to scalding and stood under the spray, letting the tension melt from his corded muscles.

 

If Spencer had died tonight, after Derek knew that he returned Derek’s feelings, there was no chance of Derek getting over it.  He would have grieved for years, unwilling to open himself up romantically to anyone else.  And he would never have forgiven himself for not making a move on his coworker sooner.  They could have been together sooner.  Hell, they could have been together for  _ years _ already, if Derek hadn’t been so determined to keep his feelings professional.

 

And now he’s pushed Spencer away, still keeping him at arm’s length.  He’s chosen the job over his heart...again.

 

Derek groaned and slumped against the shower tiles which were warm from the steam but still cooler than his overheated skin.  He leaned his head back and let the water run down his heaving chest.

 

Rossi was right, Derek had to admit - it was different now that he knew Spencer liked him back.  Spencer had even been the one to bring it up in the first place.  That couldn’t have been easy for him.  He was always so guarded about his personal life.  Telling a coworker that he’d had a long standing crush on him was risky.  Add in the fact that the vast majority of people at work, Spencer included, assumed Derek was completely straight made the confession even more of a risk.

 

After all that, Derek was willing to walk away just because he hated seeing Spencer hurt.

 

Derek jerked the shower dial to the off position much harder than was necessary and hurriedly toweled himself off.  The cheap hotel towels grated against his heated skin, but he relished the discomfort.  He was pissed with himself - he didn’t deserve soft towels.

 

As he opened his go-bag, there came a loud knock at his door.  His hand paused, not sure what he should be reaching for anymore.

 

“Who is it?” he called out, figuring it was most likely Hotch or JJ saying they were needed back at the station.  But it was Spencer’s voice that came from the hall.

 

“Derek!  We need to talk!”

 

Derek hesitated only a moment before pulling a pair of sweatpants from his go-bag and slipping into them (he didn’t bother taking the time to put on boxers first).

 

“Coming!” he called out as he snatched up a t-shirt and headed for the door.  He was still slipping the t-shirt into place when he opened the door, briefly giving the young man waiting in the hall a glimpse of his chiseled abs, still damp from the shower.

 

Spencer didn’t seem to notice, or at least didn’t pause because of it.  He pushed past Derek and stepped into the room.  He was still in the dark jeans and striped button-up he’d worn to the station that morning, but his cardigan and tie were peaking out of his satchel, which he slung off his shoulder and deposited it next to the open go-bag on the dresser on the wall opposite the lone bed.  He took a few pacing steps in front of the window before turning to face Derek in the narrow space.  His face was set hard and there was a strength in his light brown eyes that Derek had only seen in a few instances, usually when he was pissed at a suspect in an interrogation room.  Spencer squared his shoulders, raised a pointed finger at Derek’s chest, opened his mouth, changed his mind and closed it, looked down without lowering his hand, then looked back up with determination and tried again.

 

“I don’t accept,” he said firmly.

 

“Don’t accept what?” said Derek.  His confusion over Spencer’s behavior was having difficulty competing with the thundering in his chest from his baby boy’s unexpected proximity.  Derek wanted nothing more than to step forward and wrap the tall, thin man into his arms and never let him go again, but he needed to understand what Spencer was talking about first.

 

“Your decision,” Spencer said, as if it were obvious.

 

“Which decision?” Derek pressed, inching forward.

 

Spencer gave an exasperated sigh and his arm smacked down against his side.  “To not be with me, of course.”  He glared at Derek from across the room (all 4 feet away).  “You don’t get to make this decision for both of us without even consulting me,” he went on, heatedly.  “You’re not the only one who could get hurt, here!”  His arms gesticulated as his voice rose in pitch.  “I could lose you, too, you know.”  He was taking faster and louder with each breath.  “You’re always the first one in the door when confronting an unsub - always the one to chase after them, tackle them, cuff them.  How many times have you been shot, or stabbed, or beat up?  How many times has an unsub nearly killed  _ you _ in the line of duty?  That’s our  _ job _ , Derek!  You can’t decide that it’s okay for  _ you _ and not okay for  _ me _ !  You don’t get to decide that it’s reason enough to keep us  _ apart _ !”

 

Derek had stepped forward with his hands outstretched in attempt to calm the rambling genius, but Spencer shrugged him away and backed up towards the corner between the bed and the window.  He took a few steadying breaths before he continued, his voice slightly more controlled.

 

“I never should have told you,” Spencer said darkly, his eyes low and shadowed.

 

“No, Pretty B-”

 

“I never should have listened to my sponsor.  There  _ had _ to be a better way.”

 

“Your sponsor?”

 

Spencer waved him off again and shrugged in on himself, looking cold and small as he paced a few steps.  “Narcotics Anonymous,” he admitted, his face sour.  He refused to look at Derek as he explained.  “Being honest with ourselves is an important part of recovery.  Keeping secrets is usually part of what got us there in the first place.”  He chanced a glance in Derek’s direction, but stopped himself from meeting Derek’s eyes.  “Trying to pretend that I wasn’t attracted to you...” he faltered, “Intentionally  _ avoiding _ my feelings for you... _ may _ have...contributed to why I started using in the first place.”  He wrapped his thin arms around himself, keeping himself small and hunched in the corner.  He sighed and turned his gaze to his shoes.  “My sponsor said that continuing to avoid my feelings for you was putting me at risk for relapse.”

 

“So you decided to tell me that you’d always had a crush on me.”

 

“For the sake of my recovery, it seemed like the right thing to do.”

 

A smile tugged at the corner of Derek’s lips.  His Pretty Boy was doing such a good job of picking himself up and patching together the pieces - and Derek had turned around and stamped all over it by rejecting him.

 

“What about Step 13?” Derek suddenly remembered.  “You’re not supposed to start a new relationship while actively in recovery, right?”

 

“You weren’t supposed to like me back!” Spencer exclaimed, finally looking back at him.  “You were supposed to hear me out, tell it was okay, and that we were still friends!  That was it!”

 

Derek took a few steps forward, shaking his head.  “Oh, no, Pretty Boy,” he whispered.  “You really didn’t think I could fall for you?” he asked incredulously.  “With your incredible mind, all that passion...and the hair!  Come on.”  He’d nearly closed the distance between them.  “You really didn’t think I’d want you, too?”

 

“You  _ don’t _ want me,” Spencer spat at him, anger and pain straining his red-rimmed eyes.  His fingers clutched harder at his upper arms as he kept himself hunched over. He looked so young without his usual cardigan over his shirt.  “I knew you wouldn't,” he added darkly.

 

“You’re wrong,” Derek all but whispered, now only inches away.  He carefully raised a hand to rest on Spencer’s arm, not backing off when the younger man flinched at the contact.  “And I was wrong, too,” Derek went on, shuffling his bare feet forward.  “I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier tonight.  I was scared of losing you - I’m  _ still _ scared of losing you.  But…”  He hitched Spencer’s chin up, forcing eye contact.  Rossi’s words still thundered in his ears, matching the pounding in his heart caused by the hurt on Spencer’s face.  “If it’s going to hurt to lose you - no matter what - then I chose losing you to the job over my own stupidity.”  He cupped his hand around Spencer’s neck, massaging his thumb over his quivering jaw-line.  “I chose to enjoy the time we have while we have it.”

 

Spencer’s eyes scoured Derek’s face for any trace of reservation while Derek tried to force every good feeling he had for the young agent into his smile and his eyes.  It must have been enough because Spencer suddenly unfolded, flinging his arms around Derek’s neck as he brought their lips together.  A whimper bubbled up from the younger man as Derek wrapped both his strong arms around Spencer’s back, pulling him tightly against his chest and returned the kiss.

 

Their first kiss was filled with desperation and pain and sorrow for how long it had taken the two men to get to this point.  But there was also hope and promise and passion.  And it was certainly not going to be the last.


End file.
